


A Single Teacup

by Olivier_Mira



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Some Humor, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10427334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivier_Mira/pseuds/Olivier_Mira
Summary: M-21 dealing with post-Ignes angst with Frankenstein's help. Written shortly after chapter 450, after everyone got home safely.





	

A single teacup. Everything would have been fine if it wasn’t for that goddamned perfect teacup.  
  
It was almost the end of the day. Almost that time when M-21 could excuse himself and go work out in Frankenstein’s gym, alone. He and Takeo were up to their elbows in suds, silently scrubbing the dishes. Tao and Regis had just gone to see the kids to the door. It was finally, blessedly quiet.  
  
Routine was good for M-21. It calmed him. The steady flow of the water. The pleasant smell of the lavender dish soap Frankenstein was fond of. Even the ridiculous looking pink rubber gloves and aprons they had to wear for some reason had come to feel normal. Things had pretty much returned to normal after… what had happened.  
  
M-21 shuddered as images flashed through his mind involuntarily. He clenched his pink rubber clad fists in frustration, causing Takeo to pause ever so slightly next to him. _No! That bitch is dead. Frankenstein killed her. It’s over. Stop thinking about it. STOP._  
  
He resumed scrubbing, trying in vain to stop his hands from shaking. It was annoying. He was _fine_. It’s not like this was something he was unused to. Just more bad memories to file away on top of every other horrible thing that had ever happened to him. _Same shit, different day_. He could still hear M-24’s voice in his head: _Suck it up, pretty boy._  
  
His mouth turned up in a wry smile at that. He sometimes wondered how long it would take before his friend’s voice finally faded from his mind. It wasn’t something he liked to admit, but the voices of many of his previous comrades had already disappeared. Now there was no one, no one in the world left to remember them. And he had forgotten. What a terrible person that made him.  
  
_Stop. Focus. Focus on what you’re doing. One dish at a time. Finish scrubbing this one. Don’t leave grime on it; Frankenstein will go through the roof. Next one, wipe it clean. Hand it to Takeo to rinse. Don’t let him notice the tremor in your hand. Next one. Next one. Breathe._  
  
As he exhaled, he could hear Tao's lanky steps coming up the stairs. Regis was silent as usual (he was far too classy to make excess noise), but Tao telegraphed his steps on purpose, M-21 knew. As a favor to Takeo, most likely, whose senses were even sharper than M-21’s, though he still had trouble coming to terms with that. As odd as it seemed to him, M-21 was one of the least hyper-aware persons in this household. This was a surreal experience for him. Previously, he had been used to being the one who heard everything – every ticking clock, every quickening heartbeat, every sharp intake of breath. On bad days, it nearly drove him insane. But Takeo could hear the click of a magazine being locked into place in a parking garage six floors above them in the middle of battle, before M-21 had a chance to register anything besides Takeo’s purple mane swooshing by him as he took aim. And he didn’t even want to think about what it was like to have abilities like Frankenstein and Rai. How could they even stand it? It was a mystery to M-21.  
  
Tao was prattling on, as usual. M-21 could almost feel Regis’ eyes rolling out of his head.  
  
“Are all young humans as noisy as you and those kids? Is it part of the human condition? It’s very low class, you know.” Same old Regis. What was Tao going on about this time?  
  
“Still, I do think it would be a good idea. We don’t want to keep losing our puppy dog after all, do we?” Tao giggled.  
  
M-21 froze. Tao wasn’t… talking about _him,_ was he? _Couldn’t be…_  
  
Takeo exhaled slowly through his nose. _He had heard it, too_.  
  
The door burst open and Tao came bounding through, ignoring Regis’ _tsk_ -ing behind him.  
  
“Hey M-21, the kids had this idea, what do you –”  
  
“Tao.”  
  
Tao paused for a moment at the sound of Takeo’s voice, but being the force of nature that he was, he didn’t let it stop him. “Look! They got these cool stickers that you can put on your cell phone, in case you lose it? And then you can track them by satellite! So I thought maybe I’d just stick one on _you_ , because-”  
  
_“Tao.”_ It wasn’t the sniper voice, but it was _almost_ the sniper voice. Tao stopped mid-sentence.  
  
"What’s up, man? Did I miss something?”  
  
_“Drop it.”_  
  
M-21 couldn't see Takeo's face, but he could imagine his accompanying glare. He was absurdly grateful to Takeo in that moment. It wasn't that he couldn't take Tao's teasing, but now was not a good time. Grinding his teeth, he resisted the urge to growl.  
  
"Okay, fine, whatever..."  
  
If Tao had a fault, it was one that he shared with M-21: neither one of them knew when to quit. For M-21, this generally resulted in him provoking enemies well past what could be called prudent. For Tao... it was his friends.  
  
Just as M-21 had started to breathe a sigh of relief, Tao was suddenly right in his ear, whispering mischievously: "I'll just sneak them into your underwear when you're not looking."  
  
M-21 snapped. His left hand shot out of the water and lunged at Tao, the fur already rising on his arms. Takeo immediately came between them and was about to pull them apart, when suddenly, they froze. Three sets of eyes fixed in horror on a single object.  
  
A single teacup.  
  
Time stood still.  
  
The teacup, the _Master’s_ teacup, which had been mixed in with the rest of the dishes, had somehow become airborne on a torrent of water in the midst of the struggle. Takeo, to his credit, was fast enough to make a pass at it, but his gloved hands were soapy and it slipped out of his grip and…  
  
Straight into Frankenstein’s. Who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. And he was now smiling that ice cold grin that said: "You have just signed your own death warrant. Any last words?"  
  
_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!_  
  
"M-21. Come with me, please."  
  
M-21 immediately released his grip on Tao, then dropped his head in shame.  
  
Still smiling, Frankenstein handed Takeo the teacup with a look that said, "If this kitchen is not spotless by the time I come back up here, you will become permanent residents of the Dark Spear."  
  
They instantly snapped into action, Tao quickly pulling on a spare set of gloves and Takeo returning the teacup to the sink with the consternation he typically reserved for taking a shot at 200 yards.  
  
So this was how, on account of a teacup, M-21 had ended up following Frankenstein pathetically down the hall and into the elevator with his proverbial tail between his legs. _Now I've done it_ , he thought. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to join the souls inhabiting the Dark Spear. Did they even have their own identity? Or were they just one seething mass of bitter hatred and mindless despair?  
  
With a jolt, he was suddenly reminded that _Ignes_ was now part of that roiling mass of malice. Would he now have to spend an eternity with her? The very thought made it hard to breathe. He dared not look up at Frankenstein and instead studied his boots, wishing he could sink through the floor.  
  
That was when he realized that they seemed to be sinking much lower than usual. He risked a glance at the elevator numbers and realized that they were going further than he had ever gone before. Down past the gym, past the lower labs... in fact there weren't even any floor numbers where they were going. Frankenstein was taking him into completely uncharted territory.  
  
_Holy shit. I'm really going to die. I've pushed Frankenstein over the edge. He's probably been waiting for an opportunity to get rid of me for causing his Master so much pain and draining so much of his life force._  
  
His fists were clenched so hard that his fingernails were biting into his palms, drawing blood. He was keeping his claws down by sheer force of will.  
  
_It doesn't matter. I deserve this. This is my punishment for being so pathetic, so weak. Frankenstein has given me more than I was ever worthy of. An eternity in the Dark Spear is a fitting end for someone like me. I was never entitled to any of this. It was all a dream. A pathetic, lonely dream._  
  
The elevator finally ground to a halt and Frankenstein stepped out. M-21 followed like a condemned man, wondering if these halls would be the last place he'd ever see. Crazy, random thoughts started popping into his mind. At least his last meal had been a good one. Although he rarely voiced any opinion on matters of food, preferring to simply eat whatever was put in front of him, he had to admit that he always looked forward to Seira's cooking. It beat the hell out of cheeseburgers and fries all the time, although he enjoyed those, too. _I wonder if there's food in Frankenstein's personal hell? Probably not._  
  
They moved silently through door after door, corridor after corridor. Every time he thought they had reached their destination, another locked doorway appeared, followed by another staircase down. _Damn, he's really stretching this out. Does he have a secret dungeon down here? A secret killing floor?_ He thought about it for a second, then he realized that would be exactly the sort of thing that someone like Frankenstein would have. If he believed in any gods, he would have started praying. But he knew deep down that even if there were gods, they weren't going to show up for someone like him. He was obviously beyond redemption.  
  
Finally they came to a colossal set of oaken doors with iron bars that pretty much screamed  _secret dungeon._ M-21 wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a flash of violet light coursing through Frankenstein's hands as he opened it. They spilled out into a huge room, almost like a giant cave. A strange energy emanated from it, almost like the room itself was trying to swallow him.  
  
"Do you like this room?" Frankenstein asked casually. It always amazed M-21 how Frankenstein could carry on a perfectly normal conversation while contemplating murder at the same time. "I built it myself. It's soundproof, shock-proof, and even spell-proof. The wards placed around this room are such that not even powerful telepaths can sense what's going on here. I built it for a specific reason..." Here he stepped up behind M-21, causing him to shudder all over. "I built it so that I could work on things that _even Master doesn't know about."_ If words could bleed, Frankenstein's last sentence would be dripping red.  
  
_Oh_ fuck. _Even_ Rai _couldn't sense them down here? How was that even_ possible? _Shit. I am so. fucked._  
  
Frankenstein turned to face him. _This is it._ M-21 braced himself. He could feel that dark aura gathering around Frankenstein, that terrifying power that chilled him to the bone every time, no matter how often he experienced it.  
  
"M-21."  
  
He winced.  
  
"Look at me."  
  
If M-21 was anything, he was brave. Sometimes to a fault. Choking down fear, mortification and pure terror, he forced his chin up to meet Frankenstein's monstrous glare.  
  
"M-21. If you continue with your careless behavior and you break something that belongs to my Master, I will have no choice but to show you no mercy. Is that clear?"  
  
"Y-yes, sir."  
  
"Good." Then, just as quickly as the dark aura had arrived, it completely disappeared. "Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let's fight!"  
  
Frankenstein's purple glow came sweeping back, but this time, it was different. Dark-and-terrifying Frankenstein had been replaced by elated-and-eager-to-show-off Frankenstein in a fraction of a second.  
  
"Come on, M-21. Hit me with everything you've got. You know you want to." He was positively beaming.  
  
"W-wait!" M-21 was totally confused. "Y-you're not going to kill me?"  
  
"I will if you're not fast enough." He swept his right arm around in a vicious purple arc that would have rattled the walls in a typical room.  
  
"B-but... but I thought..." _Was this some kind of game?_  
  
Frankenstein brought his face up close to M-21's, his violet flames practically licking at him. "M-21. You have been skulking around the house like a kicked puppy ever since we got back."  
  
M-21 bristled at that. Freaked out as he was, his eyes still flashed with anger.  
  
"Yes, I see that you're angry. The wolf wants to come out. So? Let him. Come on. There's nothing you can break down here, nobody you can hurt. If you manage to hurt me" - here he paused, grinning from ear to ear - "I promise to give you doggie treats."  
  
M-21 swiped at him, claws bared. "I'm _not_ your goddamned _dog!"_   _Fuck it._ If Frankenstein's plan was to kill him this way, he might as well go down swinging. Fully extending his claws, he slashed out, but he might as well have been slashing at the wind.  
  
"Oh really? You're not our lost little puppy dog?" Frankenstein made a face, mocking him. M-21 wanted to slice him to ribbons, but that proved to be difficult, since he couldn't get anywhere near him. "Tao seems to think you are. Isn't that what you're so pissy about?"

M-21 charged again, this time at near full speed. Once again, Frankenstein dodged with the effortless grace of a ballet dancer.

"Pissy enough to endanger Master's teacups?" A little of the dark energy returned, bleeding through as he slammed M-21 into the floor, his booted foot grinding into his chest. "What's the matter? All bark and no bite?"  
  
"Damn you!" M-21 howled as he writhed and struggled, clawing at Frankenstein's leg, fur sprouting in all directions, but Frankenstein only laughed, balancing his elbow on his knee.  
  
"That tea set is over a thousand years old. Do you realize how insignificant your life is compared to that?"  
  
M-21 froze. _He said it. He actually said it._ What M-21 had always known to be true: he was insignificant to them. He was a gnat on a window screen, a tiny grain of sand, a meaningless waste of space. How could he ever have believed differently? And yet... He coughed as Frankenstein brought his boot closer to his throat. "Then... then _why?!"_  
  
"Why _what?"_ Frankenstein increased the pressure, clearly enjoying himself.  
  
_Goddamnit_. "The fuck do you _think?!"_ M-21 spluttered. But he knew Frankenstein, as much as anyone could know him besides Rai, and he knew he was going to make him spell it out.  
  
_Why did you come for me?_  
  
But he couldn't make himself say it. It _hurt_ too much to say it. Much more than the foot on his jugular. Much more than getting beaten to a pulp. He'd been dying to ask that very question and yet he was terrified to hear the answer. Because then he would know. The other shoe would finally drop. Once and for all, he would have confirmation of what he had known all along: that he was _nobody_. The pretense would be dropped and whatever the real reason that had caused them to come to the werewolves' lair would be explained. And then he would be thrown away with the rest of the garbage. _Same shit, different day._  
  
Except that it _wasn't_ the same. This was somehow  _worse._ Lying there, looking up at the tip of Frankenstein's boot, M-21 swore he felt more anguish than he'd ever felt in his life. This particular form of agony was worse than torture. The pain of thinking, for five minutes, that he might be somebody... to actually have allowed himself to  _hope_... but then being reminded that of course, _of course_ , didn't you know? You're nothing and nobody and that's all you'll ever be.  
  
"M-21, I am _not_ a patient man!"  
  
_You don't say_ , M-21 would have quipped, but he couldn't even bring himself to banter right now. Which meant that he must be in seriously bad shape.  
  
"I asked you a _question!_ Why _what?"_ Frankenstein gave his heel a vicious twist.  
  
_God_ fucking _dammit!_ "Why the _fuck_ do you care??" M-21 suddenly found himself screaming. "If I'm so _fucking_ insignificant to you, why the _fuck_ did you come for me? Why didn't you just let me die? You should have let me die!! You should have let me die rather than to let _Him_ -"  
  
Before he even knew what had happened, he was flying across the room. Frankenstein had grabbed him by the throat and slammed him hard against the nearest padded wall with what felt suspiciously like claws. _Shit shit shit shit shit._  
  
"How _dare_ you! How _dare_ you imply that I _let_ my Master do anything?"  
  
_Wrong thing to say. Those eyes are_ definitely _tinted purple. Shit._  
  
"S-sorry... just... just kill me. Just get it over with."  
  
"I _ought_ to kill you. Do you know why?"  
  
"B-because I'm no-"

 _"BECAUSE YOU DARE TO QUESTION MY MASTER'S JUDGEMENT!"_   Frankenstein shouted in his face, shaking M-21 violently by the shoulders.

 _Wait, what?_   "Wh... what?"  
  
Frankenstein closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out, as if M-21 were a child that was trying his patience. When he opened his eyes again, the violet tinge had vanished. "M-21. Why do you think you are here?"  
  
"I... I don't know." That was the honest truth.  
  
"You are here _because you are someone the Master finds significant."_  
  
_I'm... someone?_  
  
"You are someone," Frankenstein repeated slowly, as if reading his mind, "that my Master finds significant. And that is good enough for me. I don't need any other reason."  
  
"But you said - the teacup - "  
  
"I was goading you. It's a bad habit." He had the grace to blush, but only for a split second. "The point being... there is one absolute decree in my household. And that is:  _the Master's Word is Rule of Law._ You do not second guess Him. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, sir."  
  
"So stop it, M-21. Stop it right now. Stop thinking you're nobody and you're nothing and you're insignificant. If the Master thinks you are significant, you're significant. This insufferable nonsense of yours is disrespectful to Him, and I will not tolerate someone disrespecting my Master under my own roof, do you understand me?"  
  
"Yes, sir." M-21 was nodding, but a part of him still couldn't believe what he was hearing. _The Master thinks I'm... someone?_  
  
"Now get the hell over here and fight me properly. What's wrong with you? You haven't even transformed fully. Don't make me go get Muzaka. He has even less patience than I do, and that is _really_ saying something."  
  
Fighting Frankenstein was like fighting the sea. No matter how much force you put forth, the waves swept you under every time, just the same. And when the sea raged, there was no force on earth capable of stopping it. If he were to tell himself the truth... M-21 loved it. He loved being able to go full throttle, not having to hold back. He loved transforming into a full-on werewolf and he loved being pushed to his absolute limits - it made him feel _alive._  
  
His teammates had accused him of being a masochist in the past and perhaps they were right at that. But it wasn't so much that he craved pain or derived pleasure from it. It was that _his pain made him feel alive._ Even when he had nothing, when the Union had stripped him of absolutely everything else, his pain was still his own. He didn't provoke his enemies because he liked being beaten, but because at least when he was attacked based on his own provocation, he felt like he had some say in it. He had an identity - as somebody who pissed them off, somebody who wouldn't shut the fuck up, somebody who was too loud for his own good - but at least that meant he was _somebody_. Being somebody was infinitely better than being nobody. Being forgotten. Like his comrades. He wouldn't let them be forgotten, he _refused_. He had to be strong, for their sake. He had to fight for his own identity so he could fight for theirs.  
  
But now... something strange was going on in his brain. If his pain was no longer the only thing that defined him... what else was there?  
  
M-21 wasn't sure, but somehow, as he and Frankenstein finally staggered back to the elevator late that evening, quite spent, he felt... different.  
  
Frankenstein seemed to sense it, too. He didn't say anything until they'd nearly reached the top floor, when he suddenly stepped in front of the elevator doors. "M-21," he said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
_Who am I? Was this a trick question?_ He worried for a second that Frankenstein was playing mind games with him again, but when he looked up, his eyes were smiling.  
  
"I'm..." And then, he knew. "I'm someone the Master finds significant."  
  
"Right answer." He smiled all the way this time. "Good night, M-21."  
  
A thousand thoughts swirled through his brain as he made his way back to his small room, his bed... his _home_. But foremost among them was the thought that although he might not understand how or why, _Somebody_ thought he was somebody. _And if it was good enough for Him... it was good enough for me._


End file.
